


This Boy...Brings too Much Joy

by waveofahand



Series: Dating Paul McCartney [2]
Category: Paul McCartney - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Dating Paul McCartney, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and fish and chips, M/M, Paul comes to you after a concert looking like that, Paul is an oblidiot, Paul is an oblivious idiot, You're an insecure idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveofahand/pseuds/waveofahand
Summary: You're dating Paul McCartney, and The Beatles are just about on the cusp of making it big, all over the world. You know pretty soon you’re sharing this boy with the world, and it’s got you feeling insecure, cranky, possessive and living in a state of perpetual heat. And that's got Paul all confused. But he's a patient bloke, your Paulie.
Relationships: Paul McCartney/You
Series: Dating Paul McCartney [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646920
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	This Boy...Brings too Much Joy

**Author's Note:**

> So...it looks like [this little dating fantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22834954) wasn't just a one-time deal. Welcome to the whole "Dating Paul McCartney" series. You are dating Paul McCartney, in various situations. Sometimes you'll be double-dating with one of the other Beatles. This is fluff, it won't ever get explicit. Just sweet dating stuff, for when you just want to read something a little romantic. You are whatever gender you are. Paul's easy. :-)

**Late 1963. The Beatles are just on the cusp of being a worldwide phenomenon. You know pretty soon you’re sharing this boy with the world, and it’s got you insecure, cranky, possessive and living in a state of perpetual heat.**

(He walks in to the waiting area from the dressing room)

“How’d you like the show tonight, baby? Pretty good? I thought we were alright. Just let me clean up a bit and we’ll catch dinner, aye?”

(You drop the book you were reading. Because he is so beautiful your toes just curled and you almost swallowed your tongue).

“Mheh? Gulp? Whaa-?”

“Are you alright, love? Are you having a stroke?”

“Gah-get back in there and…and…don’t come out until you look different.”

“ _What?_ I know the shirt is wrinkled, love, and you know I’ll see to it. I like to look nice, you know. Especially when I’m with you. A bit of a scrub and I’ll be right as rain…”

“You bastard.”

(Concerned and a little hurt) “Why, what have I done?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing looking like that. Now, you get out of here and do something with yourself until you don’t look like that any more!”

(Adorable frown) “Alright, alright. What’s gotten into you? (Muttering as he heads back in) I dunno why you’re so upset…”

(Muttering to your book) “Impossible boy. As if he doesn’t _know_ , with the buttons undone and that dimple.”

(He reemerges a few minutes later) “Sorry, love, didn’t bring a new shirt, but I’m clean and not too stinky. How’s fish and chips sound?”

(He smells divine) “I would love fish and chips. You’re so stupid.”

“I’m…what? Baby, seriously, are you okay?”

“You smell…”

“I washed, you know, and used a bit of cologne…”

“You smell so good I could eat you up.”

(Smiles) “Well, that’s good, then. I endorse that plan…”

“It’s not fair…”

(Comes over, sits beside you with one arm on your shoulder)

“What’s not fair, then, darlin’? Truly, you’re so strange, tonight.” (Kisses your cheek) What’s bothering my own one? Tell Paulie.”

“Oh, my God. I can’t handle this. You’re going to make everyone fall in love with you.”

“What, at the chippy’s? No such thing, love, they never pay me any mind. Have known me all my life, yeah?”

“No! You’re so…so…” (Scolding yourself to hold it together and not melt all over him) “You’re so ridiculous.”

(Straightens up) “I’m ridiculous? First, I’m stupid, now I’m ridiculous? Baby, should I just take you home? You’re not yourself.”

“No! You’re just… _bad_. You’re so bad. (Melting…) Because you’re so good.”

“I’m trying to be good, you know…” (Snuggles in) “C’mon, love, I think you’re hungry. I know I am. What’s that saying, ‘if you’re mad at everyone it means you’re hungry’…”

“I’m not mad at everyone, just you.”

“But wha’d I _do_ , love?”

“Nothing! You…you’re just being perfect. As usual.”

“I’m not, though--”

“Yes, you _are_ , though and..and… pretty soon everyone will be looking at you and seeing that you’re perfect, and then you’re not going to want me anymore…”

“Aw, baby…” (Wraps his arms around you) “You know that means nothin’ to me! All them screamin’ birds don’t know me. They don’t get me like you do. You should know that by now.”

(Starting to cry a little…because you’re an idiot)

“But I don’t know it!” (Sniffle) “I don’t! All I know is what I see and everyone else sees it too!”

“And what do you see, love? Just a Liverpool scruff in a suit. And havin’ a laugh, because he gets to make a livin’ jumpin’ around on stage with a guitar.”

“No! You’re so _stupid_ , don’t you see?” (Pushing him away) “That’s the whole point! You think you’re just _you_ , doing what you love!”

“But I _am_ just me doing what I love…”

“NO! How thick can you be?”

(Flirting, closing in on your neck to nibble)

“Thick enough, I think, eh, love? Need a reminder?”

“Idiot! It’s—it’s—”

(Getting a little annoyed) “What? What is it, baby, what is your problem with me tonight? How can I make you happy?”

“You _can’t!_ Not unless you stop… being…”

(Sighing) “I’m hungry. Had enough of this conversation, let’s go get food and maybe you’ll feel better.”

“Wait! Wait, Paul, I’m sorry…” (Getting weepy…)

(He waits that out because even Paul McCartney has his limits and you’re pushing them…)

(Taking a deep breath and letting it out because you know you sound insane) “I’m sorry. It’s just… you don’t _get_ it.”

“I guess you’re right. I don’t.”

“Paul…” (Taking his hand) “It’s just… yeah, you’re just you. You’re just jumping around and playing and singing with that voice.”

“S’matter with me voice, now?”

(Gazing at him adoringly) “Nothing. You have a _beautiful_ voice and you sound like a freaking angel when you sing. Unless you’re screaming and then you’re like an angel with a filthy, filthy voice -- you sound so dirty I want to rip your clothes off and have you right there on the stage.”

(Smiles hugely) “Wouldn’t that be something, though? Rip me clothes off and straddle me onstage, would you, aye? Ritchie’d lose his beat, you know.”

(Okay, you’re falling in love, again, becoming a puddle of goo in his arms)

“Yeah but that’s just it. You’re doing what you love, and what you’re so damn good at… it’s like you’re doing what you were born to do.”

“And? Why’s that not a good thing, love? I don’t understand.”

(You kiss his lips because that’s all you’ve really wanted to do all this time, anyway)

“It _is_ a good thing. It’s a _great_ thing, actually. But don’t you know? Do you really not get it?”

(Teasing to kiss you again) “Get what, love?”

(Sighing) “Get that there’s nothing sexier in the whole world, than watching a beautiful guy do the thing he was born to do, and loving every minute of it, which you do.”

“I _do_ , you know.”

(Another kiss. He kisses you back, taking a little longer)

“Yeahhh, I know you do. And do you know what that shows everyone?”

“What, baby?”

“It shows everyone what real joy looks like. And…and that’s all anyone really wants in life, is to _have some joy_ , you know? Experience even just a minute of it. And there you are, and all the lads, but you mostly… you just give yourself over to your music and then you're... you’re like a whole, perfect embodiment of joy when you’re on stage. And… and that’s why everyone will want you. You have no idea how powerful it makes you. And the fact that you don't... it just makes you even sexier. You're like a big-stupid-oblivious-sexy idiot puppy with all this weirdly innocent-and-hot voodoo power.”

“Well, but..." (Thinks a minute) "It's grand you think I'm sexy, and all... I'm glad to hear it. But, I’m not lookin’ for power, love. I just want to play.”

“I know. And _that’s_ why you’re so dumb. Because you just want to play, and you don’t even realize that when you’re playing, and you’re happy you're... there's just _nothing else like you_ on the planet.”

(Looking touched) “Aw, Sweetness… that’s lovely of you to say. But, really, it’s only me, you know… the lad who just likes to be with you.”

(Evaporating into a puddle) “Oh…Paulie…” (Flinging your arms around him. Scurrying into his lap). “Really? You like just like bein’ with me?”

(Wraps his arms around you) “‘Course, love. You give me everything. (Kisses you softly) And so tenderly...”

“Aw… _baby_ …” (A whole lot of kissing goes on, and you figure to hell with fish and chips, time to get busy…)

(Pulls back thoughtfully) “That’d make a good song, aye? ‘Gives me everything, and tenderly... the kiss my lover brings’… hmmm. Hon, do you have a pencil or a pen? I need to write that down…”

 _“_ Wha-- _What?”_

“I’ll get my notebook, yeah? You have a pen? Nevermind, I probably have one with the book.” (He scoots you off his lap and leaves to retrieve it).

(You sit there, a little stunned. A lot aroused.)

“Are you _working_ right now? _Really?”_

(He comes back in, insensible to your situation, writing down a note for lyrics and already humming a melody that sounds…so lovely…)

“Hmmm? What do you think? ‘ _A love like ours could never die, as long as I have you near me…_ ’ You like that, sweet?”

“There, you see? _Idiot?”_

(Looks up, surprised frown) “What, love?”

(You look at his stupid, distracted beauty and melt all over again)

“Nuthin’, baby. You’re a man doing what he loves – what he was born to do -- and it’s beautiful. And I love it.”

“And I love…” (He looks up at you. Puts down the pen, closes the books and pulls you up from the bench. He gives you a big hug and a little kiss. You both sigh)

“You like it?”

“The song idea? Yeah, it’s sweet.”

“I meant this. Bein’ like this.”

(Smiling) “I do.”

“I’m glad. I do, too. And I’m hungry let’s go eat. Fish and chips, still? Yeah? I’ve had a real hankerin’ for ‘em all day.”

(Shaking your head and smiling)

“Aye, fish and chips. My boyfriend is an oblivious idiot. He's an oblidiot.”

(Letting him lead you out by the hand while chasing a melody in his head) “And I love him…”


End file.
